150 LETTERS FROM THE terres of a garden. The colossal figures, from the top of the St. Sulpice, are placed close to one's eye, and Cardinal Richelieu's famous monument from the Sorbonne is exposed to all sorts of in- jury in the court. When the Sans Culottes took up all the royal bodies to throw them into a hole, they found that of Henri Quatre quite fresh and recognis- able1—the wound in his side bloody; and the wretches amused themselves with pulling his beard and whiskers! December i^th, 1796. Basile was with me this morning, white-haired with poverty, chagrin and imprisonment. The Vicaire de Menil, being turned out in the general dissolution of priesthood, married a nun, whom he divorced and took again. He now is r&gisseur to M. Lenchere, a millionaire de nouvette date, who has bought Maisons. Aumont, the Vicaire de Maison, has behaved well through all vicissitudes, and earns his livelihood at the post-office. Taxes and cesses force everyone to sell their i A cast was made from it, with the beard and mous- tache still complete.